Equal parts raw harmony and kitsch, the blasphemy of Valentines is, for one night only, wedded to a more vibrant, primal metaphor. For our first show, C.O.N.C.H. presents an all-encompassing wedding for your hungry and/or jaded souls. The bloody psychological implications, the anatomy and symbolism of a heart nicely oiled by cultural expectation, experiential drama, and the dark genealogy of the holiday and its patron saint, all fuse into a show of scars, sounds, and sex on a silver platter Man to man, man to woman, woman to cantaloupe, pigs heart to chair, Klaus Nomi to Angelica Houston. Arrive at the quintessential Bushwick loft prepared to be wed to a person, object, or idea of your choosing. Feel free to dress in any aesthetic of wedding you desire: traditional, zombie, ABBA, church of Satan, Staten Island, the whole shebang. Best dressed = free bottle of champagne.